The Bucket List
by KelliP
Summary: "Then I thought the rolling hills of Tuscany are just as romantic as Paris – like Italy's own city of love – and I love you. I mean, it's not like I'm asking you to marry me over there," he jokes. "But that is the last point on the list, so if you'd rather-" - Loose spoilers for 5x17 Scared To Death.


**A/N:** I swear one of these days I'll succeed in avoiding spoilers. For now, I can't help but have some fun. Even so, spoilers in this are quite minimal. Nothing beyond what the promo gives away.

This did, however, end up following along with the bucket list on the Richard Castle website. Not at all necessary to have read it, just thought it would be fun to tie in seeing as this story was going along these lines anyway. Though if you haven't seen it before, I would still recommend reading it just for shits and giggles - (www dot richardcastle dot net slash news slash my-bucket-list).

* * *

**THE BUCKET LIST**

* * *

"Castle, you're being ridiculous." The unamused tone is accompanied with a typical roll of her eyes that he promptly ignores.

"Am I?" he hisses. "Am I really?"

Forearms planted flat on the conference table, he leans across, butt lifting from his seat as he stretches to get just a little closer. It earns him the smack of her open palm to his forehead as she forces him away.

"Yes," Beckett growls. "You are."

He plops back down into his chair with a disgruntled huff. "I'm just saying- if I'm _actually_ cursed, you might be able to see it in my eyes. It wouldn't kill you to check, but it might kill _me_ if you don't."

"And you're not afraid of passing the curse on by looking me straight in the eyes?" The quirk of one eyebrow matches the playful teasing of her tone. It's lost on him.

"You're right." He claps one palm over his eyes. "Don't look at me. I could be like the basilisk in Harry Potter."

There's a gentle tinkle of laughter that leaves her lips seconds before soft fingers pry at his. "Castle," she calls out his name in that sweet voice, a tender mix of love and admonition. Though even as she lifts his hand from his face, he keeps his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Just in case.

"Don't look at me," he warns again.

Hands still clasped together as she lowers them to the table, the whorls on the tips of her fingers sweep a soothing rhythm across the back of his hand. "Open your eyes."

Her voice is barely more than a whisper this time, all low and sultry and entirely too suggestive for eleven in the morning. It leaves him helpless, persuading him to open his eyes against his will to find two dark, flirtatious hazel eyes just inches from his. And oh- those lips. So soft and pink and full, right there, so tempting, each hot puff of her breath luring him in as it intermingles with his.

But then she's slapping his cheek twice as if he's a well-behaved dog and scooting away once again. "You're fine. Not cursed."

Dazed and a little dumbstruck from her stunt, it takes him a long moment to recover. "You- are you sure?" he stutters. "You don't need to check again? I could do with a little more… reassuring."

She levels a glare at him across the rim of her coffee mug. "The videotape is not haunted, and you are not cursed."

"But our victim-"

"Was murdered," she swiftly cuts him off. "By a human, not some half-grade homemade horror film."

His lips rub together as he considers her words for a moment. "So… I'm not going to die?"

"Not by the video," she reassures him, then, "But _I_ may murder you if you don't drop this."

He takes the hint, mimes zipping his lips shut before throwing the invisible key over his shoulder.

Mouth locked.

(Though they both know the silence won't last for long.)

* * *

Even after the short sprint from the subway, Castle leaps up the precinct staircase two steps at a time, too wired to wait for the elevator. Hitting the fourth floor landing only a little out of breath, he finds himself for the first time thankful of those early mornings when Beckett kicks the both of them out of bed to go running through the park. He grins to himself, a spark of pride flickering within, only to have it extinguished when he bursts into the break room to find Beckett anything but amused.

"What the hell happened to you?" Eyes narrowed as they roam over him, her voice is halfway between stunned and a demand. It has him at a loss for an answer that won't leave him looking foolish.

"I-" He dangles the two sheets of paper from his fingertips. "Had to run home and get this."

From her perch on the stool, Beckett waves him over. He shuffles quickly to her side, placing the paper onto the bench top and spinning them so they're parallel to her. Though before he can explain, she's clicking her tongue in admonishment and working her nimble fingers to straighten his clothes. He stills, breath hitching in his throat as his skin flares with her every touch. The brush of her fingertips across his collarbone as she lifts his half-fallen jacket, the careful slide of her palms down his chest to smooth his bunching shirt, the teasing touch as they hook in the waistband of his business slacks as she tucks in the collared shirt that's come loose. It's all so distracting, yet entirely wanted.

By the time he snaps out of his stupor a few deep breaths later, Beckett is already shaking her head and letting go of a breathy half-laugh in disbelief. "A bucket list?" she reads his written script aloud. "Really, Castle?"

"If I'm going to die-"

"You're not going to die."

"-then I figure I should cross as many things off the list as possible with what little time I have left."

A groan vibrates in her throat as she scrubs her hands over her face. "I thought we closed this discussion. That video was not haunted. You are not cursed. You are not going to drop dead."

"You're going to feel sorry making fun of this once I'm gone," he sings out. "Don't worry, though. I won't hold it against you so much that I come back to haunt you."

He slips away from her then, but calls out over his shoulder as he moves to the espresso machine. "Start having a read," he tells her while he slides a mug under the coffee filter. "Let me know what you think will be most worthwhile."

Of course, he's sure he'll hear the slick sound of paper being pushed across the tabletop any moment as she refuses to glance at the list another second longer.

He doesn't. The only sound that flitters to his ears is the rustle of the sheets as they're plucked up from the table. Head tilting curiously to one side, Castle turns around slowly, sceptically. He can't mask the surprise that creases his forehead when he finds her studying the list.

"Castle, not that I'm going to support you in this," she starts off slowly, "but there are about three things on this list you actually might be able to achieve. I mean, do you really think you can-" She points to number nine on the list. "-go to space within the next two days?"

Abandoning his espresso, he drags the second stool around to her side and slides up beside her. "All right. Admittedly, some – or, well, most – of these probably aren't achievable, even if I had another fifty years," he concedes to her point. "Still. Knowing the end is near makes me feel kind of… powerful. Like I can do things I couldn't before."

She rolls her eyes. "You were cursed. You didn't receive superpowers."

"Well, so much for crossing off number thirty-five," he mutters disappointedly under his breath.

Beckett chokes on a bark of laughter. "What?"

When her fingers flick to the bottom corner to flip over the stapled pages in search of point thirty-five on the list, he quickly snatches it from her grasp. She doesn't need to see some of the last few numbers on that list.

Before she can question his bizarre action, he's lifting her left arm to glance at the watch on her wrist. Just going on past two. Humming in thought, his eyes flick back to his bucket list. "S'pose I haven't had lunch yet. Maybe I'll eat that blowfish sushi that kills people."

"Fugu?"

Light bulb flashing in his head, he clicks and points at her, perhaps a little too excitedly. "Yes! That's it."

She snorts. "Wow. Way to live big there, Castle. Going out by tetrodotoxin poisoning."

He shrugs off her comment. "Or maybe I'll go swimming with dolphins. A little more fun. Oh, no! Swimming with _sharks_," he breathes out excitedly, eyes lighting up with just the thought.

"Sharks? Really?" Her voice is dry and completely unamused.

He gives a hasty nod all the same.

"This coming from the man who shrieked and jumped three feet in the air when a _dog_ barked at him?" She arches an eyebrow that screams _really, Castle? Want to rethink your answer?_

There's a scowl that etches itself on his forehead, the usually smooth skin creasing as his brows knit together. "He didn't just _bark_. He tried to _attack_ me." They both know his argument is flimsy at best. The dog did nothing more than bark. And wag his tail.

"Besides," he tries to skip over this more embarrassing subject, "Cage diving is perfectly safe. Nothing to fear."

"Not if you punch one of the sharks," she mutters in reference to point sixteen. "And you do realise it is only _March_, don't you? Hardly the weather for swimming with sharks."

The disappointment washes through his veins for only for a moment before his eyes trail further down the list and the child-like giddiness returns. "Then how about _skydiving_," he sings out in a low voice. "That's an all-year-round activity. Admittedly it might be a little cold, but I'm sure I have some thermals lying around somewhere from the time Alexis and I went skiing for Christmas."

"Hate to break it to you, but it's raining pretty heavily outside." She nods to the windows across the bullpen, the usually clear views of the city now hazy as the glass is battered with large water drops. "No chance of skydiving today."

There's a sigh of disappointment that leaves his lips as his shoulders slouch in defeat. "Oh. Right."

With that, Beckett slips off her stool to rinse her mug, giving him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder as she leaves him to it. "Just- let me know before you decide to do something reckless. I'd rather not have you wind up in hospital because you've-" She taps her forefinger over number three, "-wrecked your Ferrari."

* * *

"All right," Castle sings out as he all but glides into the conference. "Forget fugu. Forget dolphins and sharks and skydiving."

Beckett reclines back in her chair and arches one eyebrow in amusement. "You finally realised that video wasn't haunted?"

"Oh, no," he dismisses her assumption. "That was definitely haunted, and I'm definitely cursed. I've just figured out what I want to do with my last forty-eight-" Castle breaks off and glances down at his wristwatch. He cringes at the time. "Uh, well, forty-three hours," he corrects himself.

"Really, bro?" Esposito questions. "Only forty-three hours left and you're wasting it in the precinct?"

The comment earns the detective a backhanded slap on the shoulder from Beckett. "Don't encourage him," she hisses.

Castle ignores his partner and answers Esposito's question instead. "Not for much longer." The grin he gives is all wide and toothy like a kid in a candy store.

"Just share with the class so we can get back to work," Beckett hurries him along.

"I just got off the phone with my travel agent. He's managed to find a flight that has four tickets left to- wait for it…" Hands clapping once, he rubs them together in a mischievous excitement. "Italy."

Beckett stills. "Italy?"The question is careful, tone flat with shock."You booked four tickets to _Italy_?"

Uh-oh. That tone is _not_ a happy one. No. That's the tone he only hears when he's in trouble. A _lot_ of trouble. Kind of like the time he accidently slipped her Valentine's Day present into the wrong blazer.

Yeah. Not good.

"Bro, you're really flying us to Italy?" Esposito calls out enthusiastically.

Ah- not exactly what Castle had in mind.

The smile slips off his face as he turns to Esposito regretfully. "Uh-" He takes a moment to clear his throat awkwardly. "The tickets are actually for my mother and Alexis. Sorry."

No time to contemplate the grumble under Esposito's breath. Beckett is already rising from her chair, face fierce as she backs him up against the windows.

"Castle, you've taken this _way_ out of hand. You can't just book tickets to Italy."

He tries to recover, pull himself out of this hole he just keeps digging, though whether that's even possible at this point, he doesn't know. "Technically," he draws out each syllable carefully, "The tickets aren't booked. Yet."

Beckett holds up both hands, wordlessly telling him to stop while he's ahead. "No."

No? "Why not?" he can't help but ask. "Give me one good reason."

"Not only does your mother have a performance tomorrow night-" She holds up one finger, "-But Alexis also has her bio exam on Friday." Two fingers. "Not to mention I have this case to solve." Three fingers, three reasons.

Damn.

"A case we'll happily ditch if you rethink whom those extra tickets are for," Ryan pipes up.

She ignores the boys, arms crossing over her chest in a semi-smug victory. "So there are three reasons. Take your pick."

Castle exhales a long sigh, eyes shining at Beckett with a gentle plea. "But Kate-"

His words die on his lips at the sharp glare she shoots him. Castle gulps, Adam's apple bobbing nervously in his throat. He needs to choose his next words carefully if he wants to escape her wrath.

"Look- The list I made _technically_ says Paris, but after recent events I think we can all agree on why I don't want to return to that particular city. Then I thought the rolling hills of Tuscany are just as romantic – like Italy's own city of love – and I love you and-"

He completely misses the sharp gasp and utter surprise that floods her delicate features.

"-I would have preferred to spend a year there, but I don't _have_ a year. I mean, it's not like I'm asking you to marry me over there," he jokes. "But that _is_ the last point on the list, so if you'd rather-"

The hand claps over his mouth almost instantly, smothering the rest of his sentence into muffled nonsense.

"Just- stop."

He finally freezes, and falls silent.

She's not joking anymore.

"Well I could use a coffee," Esposito blurts out suddenly, pushing back on his chair to rise from the table. The sound of the steel legs scraping along the hardwood floors is deafening in the complete silence of the conference room. "Ryan?"

"Uh- yeah," the other detective fumbles, a little jittery as he follows the lead Esposito's thrown out. "Right. Break room. Coffee. Good idea."

Castle barely even notices the boys awkward exit, his mind dizzying as it whirls around too fast. Then there's the panic rushing through his veins, so loud in his ear and cutting through his heart.

Did he really just suggest to Beckett they get _married_?

God, he's an idiot.

When Beckett finally lifts her hand from his mouth, the whisper of her name falls hastily from his lips. "Kate-"

He's shushed immediately with a single finger placed on his lips. "I think it's best I talk," she murmurs.

Castle nods once, wholly agreeing. He's definitely done enough talking.

"You…" She draws in a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut for a moment while she grabs hold of the situation. "You are not dying. That video was not haunted, and you are not cursed. You need to stop this nonsense."

Again, he gives a single nod.

"You cannot… God, Castle. You can't just _say_ things like that in front of the boys. You can't suggest spontaneous trips to Italy or ask whether I'd rather get married or-"

She cuts herself off then, a sudden silence falling over them heavily.

"All right," he agrees quietly. "I may have jumped the gun with Italy and that proposal may have been entirely unromantic and too soon, but I meant the rest, Kate."

Castle slides one hand to circle her slender waist, the fingers of his other brushing back the front curl that's fallen over her cheek. He tucks it gently behind her ear, his fingers slipping just a little to linger against the soft skin of her neck. Then he leans forward just a few inches, ensures she'll catch his words when he whispers.

"I _do_ love you."

She ducks her head, tries to hide the sweet, shy little smile that lights up her face. "You- yeah," she breathes. It's entirely too adorable for the hard-core detective she is, charming him to leave him completely enamoured.

And then those lips. Those full, pink lips that are so alluring, that all but sing out for him. He wants to kiss them. _God_, he wants to kiss her. To cup her face between tender palms, sweep his fingertips across her smooth skin, and just _take_ her, show her just how much he loves her, but-

No. They're in the precinct, and he's already taken this too far. A look of utmost regret on his face he takes a step back, puts unwanted but needed distance between them while they cool their conversation.

"But just so I know where we're at… that's a no to the spontaneous trip to Vegas?" he tries to make light of the situation before he can bite down on his tongue.

Beckett tries and fails to level a glare at him, the telling curl of a smile already beginning to crack on her lips. "That's a _firm_ no," she emphasises with a gentle pat to his chest. "Only plan on doing the wedding thing once, remember? I'd like something a little more romantic, thanks Castle."

Oh, how the tables have turned. Beckett teasing _him_ about marriage? He likes it. Oh, yes.

With some unknown will, he manages to suppress the grin that's all but bursting onto his face and instead peers down at her coyly. "And… I suppose Tuscany is a no then, too?"

A smile curls up mischievously on her lips, hands planting on either shoulder as she leans in close to whisper low in his ear.

"Why don't we save Tuscany for the honeymoon?"


End file.
